I can't imagine how to write a story introduction for "Side Ear Listening", just like I don't know how to summarize the central idea for a diary. After reading it, every love is moved, every dream is expected, every scenery is moved, these complex veins are blended together in a very natural way, and a period of youth flows quietly. A girl named Yuedao Xia is ordinary and special. People outside the play may secretly have nostalgic thoughts and feelings about a certain period of time because of some kind of complex or dream similar to her.
I don't know how many people are like this. The warmest and softest memory in my youth is related to the library. When I was young, like Kasumi Tsukishima, I was addicted to books and read with enthusiasm that others could not understand. The library was of great significance to me. It's hard to describe the mood every time I go to the library. The joy and excitement are all displayed in a very quiet way, like the feeling of anticipation and a little anxiety and restlessness before stepping into the secret garden. The curiosity and anticipation of the world. There are two libraries that I often go to, one is the library of my mother's school, and the other is the city library. Before I can enter the adult reading room of the city map, the former one contains many memories of my younger days.
In the earliest days, the library of the mother's school was located on the second floor of a two-storey red building. That little red building is a very old building, with red bricks, wooden floors, and wooden stairs that make a slight creaking noise when you step on it, and your heartbeat will feel slightly faster as you step forward. The unique smell of wood is mixed with the smell of books. Together, the unique smell of this small building is formed, which makes people feel spiritually happy. The warmest scene in my memory is a winter day, a very cold day. My mother went to class and put me there. The iron stove in the library was lit with a warm fire, and the teacher in charge of the library was face to face with the stove. Sitting, each reading a book with a book in hand. I almost remember the sound of turning the pages of the book with the occasional sound of burning coal, as if the surroundings were still, and only the words in the book flowed slowly, with the peace and comfort of being isolated from the world. After many years, I have forgotten what book I was reading at that time, but the feeling is deeply imprinted in my memory, and my heart softens every time I remember it. Such wonderful reading memories, I know I will never be able to find them again in the future.
Such a world seems infinitely small to others, but infinitely large to myself. The heart is strong at some moments and fragile at other moments; dreams are big and small, step back and see only a door, and further you can see another world. From reading to writing is really a natural thing, so I know that when Xia Mingdao began to write that story, it was the beginning of the pain of dreams. Not everyone will encounter a Seiji Amazawa, but what they will encounter is a kind of anxiety about the realization of their dreams in the future. What kind of restlessness is that? I feel that the world can’t wait for me, my youth is about to pass away in a hurry, some people and things around me stung my pride, I feel inferior for no reason, I want to start a chase, so I want to use The words in the pen are used as a proof to ease my inner anxiety and anxiety.
People who write are actually extremely proud, extremely sensitive, extremely conceited, and extremely unconfident. They don't know what they want. They only know that it may be a subtle talent. The combination of words is really ordinary and magical. Therefore, people who write can easily fall from outstanding to ordinary, and can also go from ordinary to outstanding. This kind of awareness is sometimes clear and sometimes blurred, but once it starts, there is little peace of mind. The anxiety before starting the writing, the anxiety when starting the writing, and the dissatisfaction after stopping the writing. This way, I went all out, trying to bloom a flower from the dust. Come. And anyone who writes can feel it.
What kind of story Mingdao Xia wrote is actually not very important. Maybe as the old man said, the writing is superficial and rough, and it is completely the performance of a novice, just like a violin made by Shengsi. Seiji Amazawa, the Seiji who dreams of making a violin whom Kasumi Mingdao desperately wants to catch up with, is also walking a similar mental journey on another path. Fortunately, she, they, are still young enough to have enough time to take such a road, and their dreams can be infinite, making everyone who looks at them feel hopeful. I am also thinking about how those stories written at a young age remain in my own and other people's memories in such a youthful and compelling manner, and now, can I still find them.
Youth is such an extravagant and flamboyant word. Under its shadow, all dreams can have hope and all pursuits have courage. What I listened to was the warm memories of my youthful sadness.
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